evening time tonight.

Sara is my dear friend. She shares lots of things with me. Things like coupons and cookies, and her Taco Soup recipe. Since last month, we've had it tons of times. Mostly because it's so easy and it makes enough so we have leftovers for dinner the next day.

Tonight was the night for leftover Taco soup warmed on the stove. Because today was one of those didn't-get-out-of-my-pajamas sort of days, Jared served the soup to me with crushed tortilla chips and sharp cheddar cheese. It was so yummy. As usual, Morgan ate as much as Jared and I, then we all went into the family room and played on the floor until Jared fell asleep and Morgan and I were left pushing cars back and forth to each other.

Sir John L. and Ms. Ono came on the radio and suddenly the entire scene of the evening was sweet perfection. We were all there, together. The tree was lit, the manger scene glowing in the background. Our house was warm, it had snowed outside. We weren't rushing to do something, to do more. We were calm, comforted, content. We simply were. And there wasn't any other place I would have rather been. I thought quietly, while making girlish truck noises, how I'm so lucky to be able to be the one that gets to share with Morgan all of the sweet things this wide open world has to offer.

Things like snowflakes and marshmallows in hot chocolate and Santa Claus and reindeer. I get to read to him and teach him how to sing. I get to snuggle with him. I get to kiss him when he hurts. I get to bathe him and dress him and brush his curls.

I get to make our home home, I get to make our lives. I get to form tradition and make it tender, make it meaningful.

I am so blessed.

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Lying on the floor with my darlings tonight, I thought to myself: so this is Christmas.

And it was sweet to me.